I should have sorted through all the Summer-Drink themed Carnival submissions before firing off my own post, so I would have seen that Jiggle the Handle already had a good bit on the Pimms Cup. Apologies for the duplication.

Some other entries…

Jeff at the Bottom Shelf sings the praises of Pyramid Hefeweizen.

Days that End in Y covers the mojito.

Martini Lounge profiles a few drinks, including a Cucumber martini and a highball that I’m eager to try, the Paloma.

Ken Goldstein, meanwhile, posted a review of a Johnny Walker event in SF.

Did I miss anyone? Let me know. Thanks to all those who participated at such short notice. Perhaps participants (and readers) will be interested in submitting to the New York Times summer drink recipe open call.

Next Carnival of Drinking to be hosted by Rick of Martini Lounge. The other Rick, I should note, has a call up for the next Mixology Monday, for this upcoming Monday. The theme: mint.

One of the most refreshing warm-weather drinks I can imagine in Pimm’s Cup. Pimm’s No. 1 is an herbal-infused gin spirit, but it tastes nothing like gin, nor is it overly herbally or bitter. The closest relative to flavor I can point to would be angostura bitters – clove-y and slightly sweet. Made in England and long associated with the upper class there, it used to be produced in eight varieties, each with a different base spirit, but now is made in three, only one of which is distributed in any quality: the traditional Pimm’s No.1, consumed almost strictly in the simple, exquisite Pimm’s Cup.

Pimm’s Cup is merely Pimm’s No.1, lemon soda, citrus and cucumber slices. British “lemonade” is traditional, but since I can’t find a reasonably priced brand of the stuff here, I use Sprite, whose blandness works well against the liqueur. Originally a punch, it works equally well as a highball, the recipe for which follows. Equally suited for a picnic along the Charles as it is for punting on the Thames.

Pimm’s No. 1 Cup
Sprite or other lemon soda
Citrus slices (always lemon, lime and orange optional)
Couple cucumber slices
Mint spring, optional

Fill highball glass with ice. Fill a third the way with Pimm’s, top with Sprite and add garnishes. Stir briefly.

Mike of Days that End in Y has started a blog carnival devoted to drinks of all sorts, not just cocktails. I thought I’d take advantage of the holiday weekend to host one devoted to drinks that you like to serve at the barbecues, grill outs, picnics or what not that you’ll be attending this weekend, or in the summer months in general. Are you whipping out the tiki cocktails, do you have a new favorite summer beer, or are you strictly a planter’s punch person? Submissions at the Blog Carnival site are slated by midnight on Sunday, but if you let me know by Tuesday (in comments, or at bostoncocktails AT yahoo DOT com), I’ll post a roundup of your recipes, stories and posts here. Have a great and safe weekend.

This last weekend I headed over to dBar, a newish gay bar in Dorchester. I’d recommend it to those who haven’t gone – it has a nice neighborhood restaurant meets city lounge kind of feel. It’s nice to see owners putting thought into the design of a bar (even if that means leaving the woodwork from the former steakhouse), and hosts actually being friendly.

Drinks are big city prices, a pint five dollars and my not-terribly-high-shelf cocktail nine dollars. I can’t say I’m overly wowed with the bartending. Inexplicably the wheat beer had an orange wheel instead of a lemon wedge in it. And after having a frosty cold martini at DeLux,, my gimlet at dBar seemed downright tepid and uninspiring.

The thing worth noting is that like many these days, they squeezed fresh lime juice into my gimlet. I can’t say this is categorically wrong, but I’m convinced that the people who do it aren’t big gimlet fans. There’s something magical about the mutual bracing qualities of gin and Rose’s lime, and the real lime breaks the spell.

For what it’s worth, here’s one definitive statement, from Terry Malloy in Raymond Chandler’s The Long Goodbye:

“They don’t know how to make them here,” he said. “What they call a gimlet is just some lime or lemon juice and gin with a dash of sugar and bitters. A real gimlet is half gin and half Rose’s Lime Juice and nothing else. It beats martinis hollow.” (19)

I’m not a full traditionalist, and I find that a 4:1 ratio is much more suited to modern tastes than a 1:1 ratio. (You see a similar rebalancing in the stalwart martini.) Here’s how I make them:

Gimlet

2 jiggers dry gin
1/2 jigger Rose’s lime juice

Shake well in a cocktail shaker. If serving straight up, strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with thin sliver of lime floating on to. If serving on the rocks, strain into a rocks glass with ice and garnish with lime wedge on rim.

Like martinis, gimlets really are best very cold. Can they be made with vodka? Sure, but I’m not clear what the point would be.

For those watching the Stakes this afternoon, or those who want to be there in spirit, here’s another now-forgotten recipe from Trader Vic’s…

The Preakness Cocktail

1/2 jigger Italian vermouth
1 jigger Bourbon, rye or blended whiskey
1 dash bitters
1/2 t. Benedictine

Stir with ice, and strain into chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with lemon twist.

Perhaps I’ve found the cheapest cocktail in town, perhaps not, but after the reviews of fancypuss bars, I decided to head to Delux for a decent, well-priced drink. The place was long one of my favorite places in town, but the affordable pints ($3.75) meant I didn’t ever think of ordering cocktails.

Turns out they do a credible job. My martini could have had more vermouth – hell, any vermouth – but it was ice cold, served in a properly chilled glass and garnished with two plump, tasty olives. Made with Tanqueray, it cost five dollars.

It’s been a couple of years since I’ve gone, and the place is both changed and exactly the same. The clientele, once mixed, is now completely straight, and on this Friday night it looked like the spillover from some gross Upper East Side bar was bussed in. Or maybe that’s just Boston in general. On the upside, while formerly packed to the gills, there was surprisingly plenty of room on a weekend night.

However the cozy rock-n-roller atmosphere is just the same – same record covers on the wall, same Cartoon Network playing on the TV screen. And the pints still $3.75. Bully for them.

Delux Cafe is located at 100 Chandler Street (at Clarendon) in the South End.

Sorry for the sporadic posting - and I’m heading out of town for a couple of days. In the meanwhile, check out a site or two from the blogroll.

I’ve never been a huge fan of milk or cream-based drinks. A brandy alexander or a White Russian can be fine as an occasional dessert, but the idea one after the other when going out is never appealing.

But after seeing that this Mixology Monday - hosted by The Art of Drink - has the theme of coffee liqueur, the creamy dessert cocktail seemed an obvious route. I imagined something like a brandy alexander, only with the coffee liqueur added. Or, since I’ve been intrigued with the use of raw egg as an ingredient since trying the Pink Lady, I pictured an egg yolk emulsifying it.

Turns out Trader Vic’s guide lists just such a recipe, called the Carioca. I know nothing about the history, or how widely this was ever served. From what I’ve seen Carioca is a rum brand, so I’m not sure how it lent its name to this drink.

I’ve adjusted the proportions slightly

The Carioca

1 jigger brandy
1/2 jigger Kalhúa
1/2 jigger cream
1 egg yolk
dust with grated nutmeg, if desired

A lot of people will be put off the raw egg. Indeed, consumption does carry risk of illness. But I’m amazed at the numbers who will freak out at a true Caeser salad or homemade mayonnaise but eat raw cookie dough by the tubful. For the soundest mind, use the freshest eggs you can get, organic if you can.

Anyway, the egg provides a nice silky texture to the liquid ingredients – and with the cream adds a layer of richness. I ended up liking this better than the regular alexander, and it’s equally fine with aged rum instead of the brandy. Why try to force a martini to take on the taste of tiramisu when you can get back to the basics of rum, coffee, egg, and dairy instead?

Derby Day is this Saturday, which means one thing… mint juleps. Unfortunately I’ll be away this weekend, so won’t be able to take advantage of the warm weather and my friend Rebecca’s pewter julep cups to celebrate in style.

Mint Julep

simple sugar syrup
4-5 sprigs mint
bourbon
shaved ice (think Sno-Cone fine)

Pour about 1/4 inch of syrup into bottom of a julep cup or small tumbler. Muddle all but one sprig of mint with muddler or wooden spoon, releasing fragrance of mint into sugar. Add ice, then fill with bourbon. Stir several times until frost forms on side of cup/glass.

For the uninitiated, though, the julep is a tricky and often unpalatable cocktail. Not many people will go for a drink that starts out octane-strong at the start and ends up watery at the finish. Muddling the mint can either release the herb’s fragrance or turn the drink to a grassy swamp. And shaved – or at least highly crushed – ice is necessary to get the proper frostiness on the glass. And you gotta like bourbon, cause that’s most of the drink.

Fortunately, my friend Dave, another ex-Southerner, wrote me with his solution: a hybrid julep-mojito.

I had a julep last year at the Kentucky derby and it made me sleepy and listless. So…I adapted a mojito recipe which I like. Just substituted bourbon. Specifically, bullet bourbon, a “top shelf” bourbon marketed by Jim Beam or somebody. Very smooth, doesn’t feel like acid reflux.

You prepare a mint simple syrup (1 C sugar, 1 C water, sprigs of mint, boiled and cooled). Bruise mint with ice in a glass, mix syrup with club soda with bourbon. Voila/yee-ha, it’s a julep.

Maybe the traditionalists will shudder at the straightforward highball treatment, but for those put off by the complications of a julep or those who are on the edge about bourbon, it seems a reasonable compromise.

I’ve not had Bullet bourbon yet. I can say Maker’s Mark is great in juleps; essentially anything that’s good quality and 80 proof strikes a nice balance. I save the 100 proof stuff for sipping.

I’d never had domestic applejack, just French calvados, but Ted Haigh’s book is positively bullish on it, and a number of mixologists seem smitten with the Jack Rose, a Prohibition-era cocktail featuring the spirit. So seeing that I could pick up a bottle of Laird’s at Cirace’s for less than fifteen bucks, I couldn’t resist.

Consumed straight, I like calvados far better – it has more a mellow brandy taste rather than applejack’s 80 proof whiskey-like kick. But I’d heartily recommend applejack for cocktails: it’s spirit first and fruitiness second and holds up to strong ingredients.

Take the increasingly famous Jack Rose. A simple applejack sour (with lemon or lime), it’s offset with the sweetness and color of grenadine.

Jack Rose Cocktail

1 jigger domestic applejack
juice of 1/2 lime or lemon
2 dashes grenadine

Shake well and strain into chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with lime/lemon wedge.

At first blush it seems like a frou-frou drink, pink and sweet. But a couple sips into it, you’ll be struck by the complexity. At least I was. Cocktail aficionados insist on a good quality grenadine like Angostura or Fee Brothers brand, but I’ve combed most of the liquor stores in Boston and have yet to see anything other than Rose’s grenadine. Perhaps with the right stuff, the drink would be sublime; with Rose’s, though, it was sufficiently tasty.

Or, if you’re looking for something stronger and not-so-fruity, I flipped through the Trader Vic’s guide and found an Applejack Cocktail that’s equal parts applejack and Italian vermouth. Again using the very strongly flavored Punt e Mes, the result was too bitter and disharmonious for my tastes, so I doubled the proportion of applejack in the recipe. Much better.

Applejack Cocktail

1 jigger domestic applejack
1/2 jigger Italian vermouth

Shake and strain into chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with lemon twist.

Too outré? Applejack works well in a highball, with some ginger ale, ice and a lemon wedge. Not bad for cheap hooch.

Laird’s Applejack can be found Cirace and Sons Liquors, 173 North Street, North End and Beacon Hill Wine and Spirits, 63 Charles Street, among other stores.